Snow Season
by Halidom
Summary: Some people dread the winter and the snow it brings, others embrace it. The people of Castanet are no different. While some hearts and minds are as icy as the snow that piles up and freezes over, others are as hot as the fires inside of a hearth. For The Village Square's 12 Days of Christmas. T for non-explicit adult situations and language. Mulptiple POVs.
1. Gifts

**Gifts**

"Rich gifts wax poor when givers prove unkind"

 _Hamlet_ , William Shakespeare

I remember the first gift he ever gave me, it was topaz he found in the mines. The first thing I had ever given him had been in the middle of the previous season, it was a raspberry cocktail I had made myself in an aging pot.

Of course, at that point it had only been my first spring on the farm, and I was mostly scavenging to make ends meet, sacrificing some pocket change to give him something. When he gave me that warm hued gem, though I felt as guilty as I was shocked.

He told me not to worry about it, he was a expert at digging around old mines, and I was just getting the ropes of farming, besides, the drinks I was giving him were stronger than anything the bar sold. The topaz was a thank you gift for that.

A season after that, on a crisp autumn morning, I opened the door to find him standing there again, flustered this time. He shoved a diamond in to my palms, mumbling something about how they're used in engagement rings where he was from. I must have been wide-eyed, since he mentioned something about getting ahead of himself before running off.

It's been over a year, and though he's moved in with me, there's been no talk of marriage since that day.

However, since then, my ivory aging pot is stained in various colors from the drinks I make more him, and the smell of curry won't come out of my oven from all the curry bread I bake for him. Even so, he's always off in the mines, or at the bar without me, or staring out the window.

He gives me gems or jewelry often, even though he knows I can't really wear it, with all the farming and animal handling I do. I keep telling myself it's the thought that counts, but I feel like that thought is ' _I'm sorry for not being around_ '.

I can't defend myself much. As the snow is covering the ground outside, here I am cooking up buckwheat noodles and curry sauce to draw him away from the window, out of the side room.

He's a traveler, a wanderer at heart, I know, but I love him, and don't want him to leave, but he knows I've seen the brochures for places he'll never take me, and gave me a third diamond pendant necklace, but has yet to give me one of those rings he mentioned seasons ago. The one I've been waiting for.

The timer on the oven dings, and I call out to him. When he comes in to the room, his smile is warm, but his eyes are not. He hands me a present, a small box. I feel my heartbeat faster, until it's open, sapphire earrings.

He takes his food in to the other room.

I hate curry as much as I love him.

* * *

 **A/N:** A little prologue for my first prompt in the 12 Days of Christmas. Sorry it's short, they get longer from here.


	2. Snow

**A/N:** Here is Chapter 2, but the third prompt: **Snow/Blizzard** , for the _12 Days of Christmas / Festive Prompts_ in The Village Square Forum. I didn't include a proper intro last time, but I'm doing one story, with most of the prompts as chapters.

I'd like to thank **therainydaykids** and **Emo Cowboy** for setting this whole thing up!

* * *

 **Snowed In**

"In a perfect world, you could fuck people without giving them a piece of your heart. And every glittering kiss and every touch of flesh is another shard of heart you'll never see again."  
-Neil Gaiman, _Fragile Things_

* * *

We closed the bar early for the first time in years. The weather conditions worried us enough that we pushed the patrons out the door, once the door itself took some effort to open.

I was leaning on the door frame of the open side door watching the heavy snowflakes fall on a silent Harmonica town, past the orange glow of the old-world charm streetlights.

He was lying on the bench that was pressed up against the brick of our old building, underneath the overhang, the bottom of his sandals on the metal armrest, avoiding the snow piling on the ground, still being hit by stray flakes now and then.

I could see my breath coming from my mouth in the cold winter air, but all that was coming out of his was smoke.

"Those are going to kill you," I told him.

"Everything is going to kill us, for instance," he paused taking another drag and exhaling, "being out in this weather any long than it takes me to smoke this."

For once his sarcasm might be an honest confession. The night had taken a turn for the worse, and he had to walk all the way to the Fields.

"I told you I would clean up so you could head home before the weather got this bad," I began to dig under my nails, a habit I developed as a teenager to stop myself from bringing up something I knew I shouldn't.

"Like I would let you touch my equipment," he took another drag.

"I have before, you didn't mind," my hands stopped moving, my habit useless, innuendo my second language.

"Wrong equipment."

The snow was piling up, there was no way he would make it home easily. I stood in silence for a moment debating on taking my chance. It had happened once before, and I never could deny myself the things I wanted, and I often found myself wanting him.

I'm not going to lie; he was not the type of man I thought I would find myself wanting. I had thought I would end up with a man so full of fire, that it radiated, a man of complete warmth. Here I was attracted to a man who could blend in to the snow, with a tongue as sharp as the knives he worked with.

"You'll never make it home in this weather, why don't you come back inside and we can drink. You can stay here tonight."

"Subtly was never your specialty," he looked at me, flicking the end of the cigarette in to the snow. "But you're not wrong, the weather is awful."

I looked again to the streetlamps, beginning to get encrusted with ice, the snow starting to cover the curbs. By morning, there would probably be a foot of snow on the ground if this speed kept up.

I pulled my hair out of its ponytail as I walked back in to the bar from the door way, " Well, what are we drinking?"

"Whatever you're making," he told me, as he stood up from the bench, planting his near bare feet in the snow, "and whatever it takes to warm me up from that." He frowned.

I smirked to myself, I knew exactly how to warm him up from that, and it didn't come from the shelf.

We closed the door behind us and walked in to the empty barroom, alone under dim yellow tinted lights.

We heard the wind pick up outside, but we barely noticed the rattle of the windows once we were a few drinks in, and noticed even less once we made our way back to my room.


	3. Cold

**Momentary Warmth**

"Then, one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...you give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore."  
-Neil Gaiman, _The Sandman Vol. 9, The Kindly Ones_

* * *

We had made it back to my farmhouse before the storm became too difficult to traverse. Though, had he stayed later, he probably would have assumed his old room at the inn, but whether I would have been invited in to that bed, I'm not even sure.

He was drunk, sloppy. His demeanor the day before was gone. Basking in his alcoholic daze, he was all over me, biting my earlobe and neck, gripping my hips and pushing me against the wall.

I can't say I hadn't been waiting him to do this recently; in fact, I had desperately wanting him to do this. Now, however, I couldn't feel any warmth in the motions, in his body. The only heat was in the friction, but not in the feeling.

The whole situation seemed as frigid as the snow piling up outside. It was automatic, cold and robotic on his half, going through old motions, while I melted inside.

I tried to tell myself that, as he fumbled beneath my clothes, icy fingers causing me to gasp, not out of pleasure, but surprise. We had been home for an hour now, fire burning high, warming the rooms. Why was his body so cold? Was I imagining it? Was I being bitter over his recent distance, unable to enjoy his spontaneous moment of affection?

He backed away from me momentarily. His eyes were the color of the ice forming outside my windows, our windows, but his pupils were large and dark, and seemed much colder in their inky darkness than the blue surrounding them.

He looked at me, his pupils darting left and right over my face, unsettling my heart, and my stomach. It turned the hot blood flowing through my veins cold.

We soon ended up in bed despite any better judgment of mine. We lived together, I loved him, but I gave him all he wanted when he wanted, and I barely made power plays for myself.

He was sound asleep, turned away on his side, facing the kitchen, not me. He had stolen a majority of the blankets, wrapping himself tightly, and I shivered, pulling at the corners of the comforter, trying to warm my naked body up.

The longer I lay awake in that bed, that bed that felt cold despite holding another person's body heat, the more I wish he would just make up his mind to leave.

I am not here for the amusement of a distant man.

* * *

 **A/N:** I thought these would be getting longer, but I seem to like getting my point across, with a few words as possible, I'm sorry. Thank you again to therainydaykids and Emo Cowboy for setting up the 12 Days of Christmas challenge!


	4. Resolutions

**A/N:** My fourth installment for the 6th prompt: **Resolutions**. I'm just giving a heads up, this chapter is two different points of view, with a line break between the two, hopefully it's not too confusing!

* * *

 **Saving Resolutions**

"Does anyone have any resolutions for the new year?" I asked loudly, hoping the surrounding tables of my contemporaries would hear me, and I would hear more than some inane babbling from my girlfriend, the 'um's coming from her sister, or the excess falling out of the mouth of the jewelry maker.

Somehow he and the lavender haired mouse had gotten engaged between the Moon Viewing Festival and the Crop Festival, but had decided to wait until spring to marry, going against the tradition of short engagements prevalent on the peninsula.

Times were changing and I had seen the records to prove it. My, ideally, future sister-in-law was actually born out of wedlock, though the blush-haired girl was born shortly after their parents marriage was legalized. Neither girl knew this, nor knew that I knew.

"I have one," I offered up when no one answered, hoping to start a large conversation.

"What? Not to be a pompous ass this upcoming year?" a sharp voice rang from over the bar.

" _Well, someone heard me_ ," was my main thought, followed quickly by a " _fuck you_ ".

"Well, I have one," the tanned skinned dancer answered me, sitting on the floor, taking a break. "I'm going to be successful, and _take_ what belongs to _me_."

I saw her eyes dart to the younger blue-haired carpenter, completely obvious to the islander's words.

"Good luck with that one," I mumbled, taking a sip of my drink. We had been friends forever, he and I, despite our personality clashes. He was as oblivious as he was honest. I knew he had…affection for the dancer, but he never would never notice any that were returned, or act on his own.

"We'll get married!" The jeweler yelled from across the tabled, groping his fiancé's hand, while her face was becoming as pink as my girlfriend's hair.

This caused me to look at the object of my own affections, her cotton candy hair in two perfectly curled pigtails.

She was staring down in to her drink, her deep blue eyes staring at the dark red liquid; they were sad, watery, even.

Then she spoke, "I can't think of next year's resolutions, if I didn't complete a single one from this year."

* * *

"I can't believe how full the bar was tonight," I sighed, as I pressed my hand to the windowpane and watched the snow begin to fall quickly in heavy clumps.

"I'm surprised, too, especially those from the Fields, that's a long walk back in this weather."

He was sitting in his armchair, writing in that old leather bound journal of his, pages dog-eared and almost falling out. I had gotten him a new one for Christmas, but he just kept sewing in new pages to the old one.

"Speaking of, why didn't you go home instead of coming here?" He asked me.

I didn't turn to look at him, feeling my cheeks turn pink, I took a second to gain my composure, "It's too crowded right now. Candace, and Julius, Grandma, and Mira. If I was there, well, that's too much for me." I was being honest. That house was too full, and so was the bar. There were too many people and too many problems I couldn't solve, and I could feel the cracks starting to surface.

"You love being around people, you were the biggest social butterfly at the bar tonight, and you barely drank."

I was trying to solve their issues, to no avail. It was useless. Tiring.

"Even I burn out, sometimes," I sighed. "I know you talk out of obligation, and I do it for fun, but sometimes even I want to just be alone with you." I looked over my shoulder at him, my hair partially obscuring my vision, but I still could see his winter ice eyes open wide at me.

"Speaking of speaking to people at the bar, can you believe everything going on?" I asked him. Changing the subject away from myself.

"What?" He was still in shock over my statement, I assumed.

"Well, the snow started piling up outside pretty fast, right? Most people started to leave, but Molly kept buying Calvin drinks, saying they'd just rent a room at the inn if they needed to. He seemed pretty keen on both the drinks and going to the inn, but didn't you hear him insist that Molly go home before the storm got to bad?"

"They've been together over a year, it's just a rough patch," he told me.

"I think he's going to leave her," I said bluntly.

"Luna…" He said softly, standing up from his armchair, gently placing his journal down.

"And Kathy and Chase! Did you notice the looks they kept shooting each other when they actually had a minute? I never even thought of them as a couple, but they're _definitely_ hooking up! You could totally tell they were waiting for everyone to leave so they could sneak off together!"

"Okay," he said, putting his hand on my shoulder, "why did you really come over tonight?"

I chewed the inside of my cheek, slowing my response, "It's the end of the year, and I didn't get to my resolution. It's my last chance." I told him, turning from the window right in to his chest.

He cupped my face and brought it up to look at him, "Please, don't tell me _that_ was your resolution."

I turned my face away, embarrassed. My whole body was enflamed, and here was a man completely made of ice.

To my surprise, his lips touched my neck, slowly, and moved up, towards my lips, "That's one of those things you need to actually _mention_ , so we can talk about it."

He pressed his warm body into mine against the cold window, and I was in complete shock. As I returned every kiss I felt him pull me away from the icy glass, and towards that armchair he usually found himself in alone.

As he sat down he pulled me on top of him, my layers of shirts moving, leaving little extra fabric between my underwear and his khaki pants.

"Was this really your resolution for this year?" He asked me, left hand on the small of my back, the right holding my left arm, pressing me against his chest.

I nodded in to the crook of his neck, at a complete loss for words.

"Well," he said directly in my ear, hot breath on my skin, " It really shouldn't be left up to a resolution."

We sat like that for a long time, and he just held me, nothing more.

"Let's go to bed," I mumbled in to his shoulder.

"That's probably for the best," he kissed my forehead. "We have our whole lives, don't rush."

I let the end of that sentence roll around in my head as we curled up in bed that night, together, but fully clothed.

What _was_ his New Year's resolution?


	5. Goodbyes

**Never Get To Say It**

I never thought this day would come.

That's a lie. I knew it would.

I have a talent for leaving. A talent for loving and leaving, I've been told. I've learned tact over the years, but in the end it's all the same; I can't stay in the same place for long, and they never seem to want to leave with me.

I tried to treat her well, and show my affections. In the end, they were probably just things that would be shoved in to a box in the back of the bureau when I was finally gone. I never got her that ring I mentioned a year ago. I thought she might leave with me, but I was wrong, and she planted roots in this town.

Every woman I ever loved had too many ties to her town to up and leave. I remember Karen, she was too young then, I suppose, but I remember her green eyes and honey brown hair when it fell over me in the back seat of my car. Being young we both made a dumb game out of it, but I loved her, even if I was a stupid kid.

Now I'm a stupid man in love with a different woman, stuck in the same situation.

My bags are packed, and she is tending to her animals in the barn.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table, her table, waiting for her to return, to give her a proper goodbye, even if I have no proper reason for leaving her. She tried; she just wasn't the one for me.

When she came in to the house, sweaty despite the cold, she didn't even look at me, she just moved to the side to let me by.

She wouldn't let me speak. There were no goodbyes.

I never seemed to be able to have one.

Yet, here I was heading out to travel for a while. Then out to find that girl from almost ten years ago, with the bright green eyes.

Sometimes the old is the new.

* * *

 **A/N:** The seventh prompt: **Goodbyes/Old** for the festive prompts challenge. I've made this a tie-in to a different story of mine, but it can definitely stand alone if you're not reading that story.


	6. Green-Flowers

**A/N:** Here's my sixth entry in the 12 days of Christmas! The story is wrapping up here and I hope you're enjoying it! Thanks again to the raintydaykids and Emo Cowboy for setting this up, because even though my chapter are short, I'm feeling a surge of creativity I haven't in months. Happy 2016, everyone!

* * *

 **Eyes**

"Almost all the time, you tell yourself you're loving somebody when you're just using them.  
This only looks like love."  
― Chuck Palahniuk, _Invisible Monsters_

* * *

I've been looking closely at those eyes since the summer festival. They captured me for their color at first; they reminded me of the rolling waves of grass past the farms down in Flute Fields. When she was angry, they reminded me of the trees near Fugue Forest.

That's not what I notice about them any more.

I notice how her makeup is smudged all around her eyes, because she usually forgets to wash her face at night. I notice the creases beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, subtle, but it wouldn't be too many years before they begin to show fully. Her eyelashes are pale blonde, lighter than her hair, once all the mascara rubs off.

It was in all these little things I realized I began to feel something deeper than lust for her.

When her eyelashes flutter open once the light in the room is too bright, a peridot gaze confronts me.

Instead of words she plants her face down in her pillow, her hair spilling about the bed and in to my face.

I can smell her shampoo, the smell of exotic flowers reaches my nose. How much does she use? Against my better judgment, I move in close to her, almost burying my face in the crook of her neck.

It wasn't supposed to come to this. This was for fun, nothing else. Something to pass time, someone else so I didn't feel so lonely. She agreed the first time. Last night, there were no stipulations. A one night stand extended itself into Goddess knows what.

She reached her right arm out and played with the hair on the right side of my head, tracing down my neck and lightly dragging a nail under my chin.

I have no idea where this is going, and love was never my strong suit.

" _Well, I'll just go with it_ ," I decided, planting my lips to her neck, and hearing a soft moan grow from her throat.


	7. Anew

A/N: I didn't make it in time for the 5th, so this isn't really one of the prompts, but I really couldn't leave the story hanging. So here is the chapter I had planned to use for the last prompt [blank]. Thank you again to Emo Cowboy and therainydaykids for creating the Festive Prompts! I wish everyone a awesome 2016!

* * *

 **Anew**

He's gone and here I am, still going to the bar, sitting at our table alone.

Luna was running around the bar, showing everyone her new diamond ring. Gill gave it to her on New Year's Eve. I could barely stand to look at it. I was happy for her, but I was still feeling sorry for myself.

I went up to the counter to get another drink, since I hadn't seen Kathy for almost twenty minutes. Reaching the bar, I see the side door propped open, Kathy back against the doorframe, and Chase against her, peppering her collarbone and neck with kisses in-between drags of his cigarette.

Luckily Hayden saw me and refilled my drink, before I grew envious of another couple just beginning to find each other.

On the way back to my seat I weaved through various visitors.

Luke was swearing to Owen he was "Totally going ask Selena out this time! For real!"

Candace was sitting quietly at the table she shared with her future brother-in-law, while her fiancé was running about the bar with Luna, commenting on how he made the ring.

I almost spilled my drink when I was nearly bumped in to by Selena's dancing, while I was trying to avoid everyone.

New Year's Day may not have been the best time to drink at the bar, but after the last few days, it's all I had after taking care of my animals, a blanket of snow still covering the ground, preventing me from planting any crops just yet.

Everyone was speaking of resolutions and plans for the new year, but here I was at nearly square one with mine from last year.

With so much love flowing between couples at here, I contemplated how I had lost mine.

He was probably a continent away by now, knowing him.

At least some of us ended up happy.


End file.
